


All that still matters...

by KeepGoing



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek lives in Beacon Hills, Derek works construction, Derek's in love with his best friend, Human!Derek, Just kinda turned out that way, Laura Hale lives in NY, M/M, Malia is still Derek's cousin, Malia won miss teen USA, Not hating on Malia, Song fic, Stiles and Derek are best friends since HS, Stiles has a grammy, Stiles is a pop star like Justin Bieber, Stiles is clueless, Stiles is famous, Stiles lives in LA, Stiles writes a song about his breakup with Malia, hale fire still happened, sterek au, unrequited feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 08:02:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5820604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeepGoing/pseuds/KeepGoing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski have been best friends since grammar school. They have been through it all together; including the death of Stiles' mother and Derek's parents. But after high school, their lives take very different directions. Stiles goes off to college only to be discovered and signed, becoming the newest pop star in Hollywood. Derek stays behind in Beacon Hills. But their friendship never falters; even after Stiles breaks up with Derek's famous model cousin and writes a song about their very public break up. </p><p>Trying to get away from the backlash of the new song, Stiles comes home for a few days back to Beacon Hills to spend some time with his best friend and father. But the feelings Derek has been hiding for his best friend are coming dangerously close to the surface and it seems Stiles may also have some feelings of his own for his oldest friend...</p>
            </blockquote>





	All that still matters...

**Author's Note:**

> 2 very important things:
> 
> 1\. I am not a Malia hater. She may not be my most favorite character, but this fic was no way intended to bash her. I just kinda needed HER as a character to have the song written about her. I used Shelley's own winning of Miss Teen USA as a way to make Malia more famous. 
> 
> 2\. The two songs used in this fic that "Stiles" the pop star wrote and written are merely used for the use of this fic and in no way to do I claim anyone else wrote them. The one song "Love Yourself" is by Justin Bieber (whom if you had to think of a "Pop Star" right now is how you would picture Stiles to be, popularity and music wise) the second song is "Life After You" by Daughtry. (The kind of artist that Stiles becomes after his 'transformation')
> 
> Enjoy! Non Beta'd so all mistakes are mine. 
> 
> And comments are LOVE <3

Derek Hale idles in neutral at red light on Main Street as he pushes the buttons on his radio trying to find a decent song he can drown out on his ride to work. He lands on a pop station, one that travels almost completely down California, making its home at various frequencies along the way. He groans a little in his chest as Taylor Swift rapes his ears with another irritatingly catchy tune. He doesn't have to suffer long though, as the song ends only a mere few seconds after landing on the station. 

_“That’s a classic from my girl Taylor!”_ The annoying voice of the DJ waifs through the speakers and Derek rolls his eyes. 

_“And now an exclusive new track from Stiles Stilinski’s upcoming album! Seems like perhaps Stiles was putting some closure and perhaps a few digs into his relationship with his ex Malia Tate with this one! Can’t wait to hear the backlash from this one! Here it is; “Love Yourself” by Stiles Stilinski!”_

Derek eyes widen slightly as the lyrics with the soft patter of music behind it fill his car. As the song goes on and he turns right onto the dirt road leading to the construction site, he can't help but cringe. It's not that the song isn't good. It is, for all its worth. Derek really isn't into this pop music culture; he’s more of a classic rock kind of guy; but he listens, well, because of Stiles. But this? This song that was assaulting his brain at the moment was going to cause a shit storm. Not only in Stiles life, but in Derek’s. 

__**For all the times that you rain on my parade  
** And all the clubs you get in using my name  
You think you broke my heart, oh girl for goodness sake  
You think I'm crying, oh my oh, well I aint' 

Cause Stiles didn't just write an ode to his ex-girlfriend. 

He also wrote it about Derek’s cousin. 

Derek pulls into his usual parking spot on site and presses his forehead into the steering wheel. “Fuck.” He whispers. 

__**'Cause if you like the way you look that much  
** Oh, baby, you should go and love yourself  
And if you think that I'm still holdin' on to somethin'  
You should go and love yourself 

********

“CAN YOU BELIEVE THOSE LYRICS, DEREK? I MEAN SERIOUSLY? USING HIS NAME TO GET INTO CLUBS? LIKE I REALLY NEED TO USE HIM TO GET MYSELF INTO ANYWHERE! DOESN’T HE KNOW WHO I AM???”

Derek holds his cell phone a few feet from his ear as his cousin continues and continues and continues to yell, scream and carry on and on about the lyrics of Stiles’ latest song. He gets it. She’s mad. It was a low blow from Stiles. To put their dirty laundry out there for the entire world to hear. But it's not like Malia hadn't done her fair share of messed up shit to Stiles. That song wasn't written unwarrantedly. 

“Malia. You told E-online he was the worst lover you ever had.” Derek reminds her.

“I was DRUNK. And they twisted my words around. Fucking paparazzi.”

Derek sighs heavily. “You two are just one big chaos of drama. I think it's better the two of you aren't together anymore.”

“He’s an ASSHOLE, Derek. I don't care how long you’ve known him. He’s a lying asshole.” Malia sniffles into the phone. “I’m really hurt here, Der.”

“I’m sorry.” Derek hears the beep of his call waiting and checks the screen. He smirks. “Malia, listen. Let me call you a little later and you can tell me some more about what an asshole my best friend is.”

“Derek! This is serious! I-”

“Bye hun.” Derek presses the ‘switch’ button on his cell and smiles into it. 

“DER! What is UP?” Hyperactive giggles seep through the small openings of the microphone and Derek shakes his head. But smiles widely. 

“You are such an asshole.”

A burst of laughter erupts from the other end of the phone.

********

Derek Hale has known Stiles Stilinski for a very long time. Way before the fame. And the Grammy. And the house in LA. Stiles was the kid who kicked sand at him on the playground in first grade because Derek was, and he quotes, “a stupid head.”

The rest you can say is history. A long history of friendship that goes along with extreme loss. Derek was there when Stiles’ mother died of cancer. He sat with Stiles on his bed for a whole day while Stiles cried. Derek just slung his arm around his shoulders, never moving, never making a sound. His arm tingled for 3 days after that from lack of blood circulation, but Derek didn't care. 

Because Stiles returned the favor 8 years later when Derek’s family died in a fire. They were 16, both just coming into themselves. The night of the funeral, Stiles made room in his twin bed for Derek. He laid his head on Derek’s shoulder and promised him that he’d always have a family with him. 

That’s when Derek realized he was in love with him. 

Stiles has always been his constant. Never judging, always smiling and laughing with him through the pain. A shoulder, literally, to lean on in good times and bad. The Stilinski’s became Derek’s family after the fire. Derek’s two sisters, Laura and Cora survived and Laura being the oldest took he and Cora into her care, got a job and an apartment and did all she could for them. She ended up moving to New York after Cora graduated high school. Cora went to college overseas. Derek is the only one who stayed behind in Beacon Hills. He understood why his sisters couldn't stand to be in that town anymore, but for some reason Derek couldn't fathom being anywhere else. He went to community college and eventually got a job doing construction, kept at it, and is now the foreman for the company. 

Even though Derek had his sisters through high school after he lost the rest of his family, he spent most of his time with Stiles and his father. They never asked why, never made him feel unwelcome. Sheriff Stilinski called him ‘son’ and Stiles told people Derek was his brother when they made Derek come with them on vacation, always paying, never asking for money from Laura. 

Stiles was his family. But Derek was in love with him. Unconditionally. On a level that to try to put it into words would fail at every turn. 

But Derek has yet, 8 years later, to tell him. 

Stiles knows Derek is gay. Everyone does. Derek isn't ashamed. And Stiles has never once treated him any differently after he found out. 

And they never lost the bond they share even after Derek decided to stay behind in Beacon Hills and Stiles headed off to LA and was “discovered.” He talks about Derek in interviews, they have been seen together, photographed together at baseball games and restaurants when Derek visits Stiles in LA. There has been some speculation about them being involved, but since the recent events that have transpired between Stiles and Malia, those rumors were laid to rest in a puff of dust. 

Malia, Derek’s Uncle Peter’s daughter, is an up and coming fashion designer/model. She won miss teen USA a few years back and up until Derek was 19 he didn't even know he had a cousin. Because Peter didn't know he had a daughter. It was a weird mess of family drama and when Peter finally brought Malia around 2 Thanksgiving’s ago (reunited the Hales and Stilinski’s like every other holiday) sparks flew between Stiles and the freshly turned 18 year old girl. 

It would be mean to say that Malia used her relationship status with Stiles to get to where she is...but if looks like a duck…

She HAD won Miss Teen USA and already had a little fame, but after being seen with Stiles at the Grammys, her popularity skyrocketed and she sailed that rocket all the way to the bank. And to modeling gigs. And Paris for fashion week. It happened fast, and Stiles had no clue what hit him. He admitted to Derek in a late night drunken phone call that he really cared for Malia, but something was off. Stiles had said he felt used, and during a separation between he and Malia when she was in Italy on a design tour, and he saw the article where Malia was interviewed coming out of a club one drunken night and she had a few choice things to say about her and Stiles bedroom activities, it was the last straw for Stiles. 

Derek just didn't expect there to be a song written about it all. 

“Malia is pissed.” Derek says into his cell as he opens a beer. He takes a long swig and waits for Stiles’ reasoning behind writing the song. 

“Yeah. It was harsh. I kinda feel bad.” Stiles admits. Derek can hear clanking in the background which means Stiles is actually home for once and cooking for himself. 

“It's all over the radio.”

“Mmm. I know. My agent is saying it's already hit number one on its second day released.” Stiles sighs. “Whoopee.”

“Why do you do it if you hate it?” Derek asks, again, for like the 100th time since Stiles became “famous.”

Stiles has a good voice. Derek has to admit that. But the music he is making...it's just not the kind of music he and Derek used to listen to in their bedroom at 2am while studying for exams. They were obsessed with bands like Fall Out Boy, and My Chemical Romance. Derek could remember many nights, drinking beer on the hood of his camaro in the preserve while belting out drunken Jimmy Eat World lyrics. Those bands were the soundtrack of their high school experience. 

And then Stiles auditioned for some no name garage band while in college. They made one record. Totally underground. They won a few local music awards in LA and one day Stiles got a call from a record executive saying he wanted Stiles to come in to record a demo on his own. Nothing too big. Just a few songs so he could bring it to the big wigs because he said he saw Stiles perform at the “Attic”; this disgusting club in a bad part of town by Stiles college. 

So Stiles went. 

And 4 months later ‘Stiles Stilinski’ was all over the radio belting out sappy poppy romantic ballads about broken hearts and clubbing. Derek made fun of Stiles for a long time. He cringed and nearly vomited when he saw Stiles LA home for the first time. But tears welled in his green eyes when Derek heard the Grammy nominations that first year that Stiles had made it big. 

And as Derek watched Stiles win that Grammy for “Best New Artist”, he balled like a baby as Stiles accepted his award and thanked his _‘best friend Derek back home’_ for always standing by his side and making him remember what family really was. 

Derek hadn't cried that hard since his family died. 

“It's not so bad.” Stiles lies. “Oh fuck who am I kidding? I’m a fucking joke. Have you seen my fucking hair?”

Derek laughs. “Stiles…”

“No. Am I the kind of person who would write a cunty song about my ex? Your cousin who happens to be my ex, to be exact? What kind of a fucking asshole does that?” Stiles sounds near tears. It makes Derek’s heart ache. 

“Someone who has a boss who probably told you to do it.” Derek states matter-of-factly. 

“Yeah, well. I’m a fucking sell out then.”

“Maybe.” Derek admits. “But you’re still Stiles to me.”

“Thanks.” 

The silence is nice. Derek can hear Stiles breathing heavily on the other end; most likely trying to read the directions on the Mac and Cheese box or trying to figure out how to work his monstrosity of a television. The words fall from Derek’s mouth before he can even get the complete through his brain.

“Why don't you come home for a few days?”

Derek can practically HEAR Stiles open his mouth and then close it again in shock.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean me and your dad are always coming down to LA. Come home for a few days. Relax. We’ll go fishing, play some xbox. Just de-stress. Might be good for you. You’re going on tour soon. We won't see you for a while.” Yeah that sounds like a good reason, Derek thinks. 

“You know what? You’re a genius. That’s an awesome idea. I’m gonna pack a bag and head down.” Stiles breathing becomes more ragged and Derek can hear him throwing the closet door open. 

“Now? Stiles it's like almost 8. And it's like a four hour drive.”

“So? You can climb in through my bedroom window like when we were in high school.” Stiles huffs out a laugh. 

“Can I sleep in your twin size bed too?” Derek mocks, but instantly regrets saying it. 

Stiles snickers. “You’d like that wouldn't you?”

Derek’s blood freezes. Was Stiles...flirting? No. It's just banter. Gay banter that Stiles throws out at Derek sometimes. It's what they do. 

“Maybe.” Derek laughs nervously, hoping Stiles doesn't notice.

“I’ll let you know when I’m close. Bye, Der.”

 _‘Call ended’_ flashes across Derek’s cell and he swallows hard. He can't believe that worked.

********

Derek hasn't climbed up this drain pipe in almost 8 years. He feels silly at 26 doing it, but it brings back a wave of memories. When things were simplier. When Stiles was still living in this town before the only way he could hear Stiles voice on a regular basis was through a stereo speaker and see his face on E-news. 

Stiles has his back to him when Derek perches himself on his windowsill. He’s throwing t-shirts from his duffel bag onto the bed and he’s humming an old fall out boy song under his breath. It makes Derek smile. And his cock hard.

Derek’s boots make a loud thumping sound when he lands inside Stiles’ room and he watches as Stiles’ shoulders jolt from the sound, he turns, already smiling at Derek. 

“Always so graceful.” He mutters coming toward Derek with open arms. 

“That’s me.” Derek takes him in his arms, burying his face into Stiles’ shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of his skin mixed with new smells Derek doesn't recognize. 

“Fuck, I missed you.” Stiles murmurs, digging his fingers into the fabric of Derek’s shirt on his back. Its when Stiles says things like that, that Derek thinks, if only for a second, Stiles may feel the same about Derek that he feels for him. But Derek knows it's just being homesick. It's the chaos of fame. It's the sadness of missing the simplicity of home and of what was. 

Derek’s toyed with the idea of telling Stiles the truth. Telling him how Derek has never been able to make it work with anyone else because of Stiles. That every time he goes out with someone, he compares every attribute to Stiles. That when he’s in bed with someone new as he touches their bare skin, he wonders if Stiles’ skin is softer. Warmer.

Because Derek knows there is. 

Derek didn't want to admit that when Stiles started dating Malia that it didn't destroy him. He wanted Stiles to be happy. He wanted Malia happy. 

But he also didn't want to admit that when Stiles called him at 3am one morning to tell him he had finally broken up with the newly turned model/fashion designer that Derek didn't jerk off frantically after that, coming harder in his life than he ever had. 

Derek was fucked up. And it wasn't Stiles fault. It's not like Stiles had ever given him any ounce of hope other than friendship. This was all Derek. Derek’s need. His want. 

Stiles finally breaks the embrace and searches Derek’s face with a smile. “Fuck, you never age, do you?”

“Stop. You’re making me blush.” Derek pushes Stiles’ shoulder playfully. Stiles huffs out a loud laugh. 

“I can't believe you drove all the way here.” Derek shakes his head and sits on the edge of Stiles’ bed and begins to fold the strewn t-shirts on the bed. Stiles rolls his eyes and yanks the clothing from his hand. 

“I just can't deal. I’m ready to just throw in the towel. Fuck the tour. Fuck the fame. I just wanna come home and work at the library or some mundane job like that.” Stiles sighs heavily and shoves his clothes BACK into his bag and throws it onto the floor. He plops down next to Derek. “Crazy, huh?”

“No. It's a lot. And...well...you know how I feel about it all.” Derek reminds him. 

“Yeah, you’re jealous.” Stiles smirks and bumps his shoulder. 

“Mmm. Right. You see right through me.”

Stiles rubs the palms of his hands against his jeaned knees. “It went too far. Too fast.”

“I can understand that.”

Stiles looks at Derek with a pained expression. “Don't you miss me?”

“What?” Derek’s eyes widen and he turns his body toward his best friend. “Are you serious right now? Yes. Every day. Why do you think I call you so much? But this is your life now, Stiles. You signed contracts. Made deals. You have to lay in the bed you made for yourself.”

Stiles falls back against his bed and looks up at the ceiling. “I like this bed much better.”

Derek follows suit and when his hand grazes Stiles, his whole body tingles. He stares up at the stain on the ceiling in the shape of “the loch ness monster” as Stiles always said. “That’s just because I’m in it.”

Stiles wraps his index finger around Derek’s. “More than you know.”

********

The next two days are filled with fast food, hours upon hours of video games, throwing the football around in the preserve, and bothering the Sheriff down at the station. Derek could sense the calm that had washed over Stiles’ dad as soon as Stiles came back into town. And Derek had never seen Stiles himself so relaxed. His cell phone never stopped ringing from the second he stepped foot back into Beacon Hills, but after the second day Stiles turned if off and threw it in his glove compartment of his mercedes. 

Stiles barely talked about LA or Malia or anything to do with his ‘other’ life. Derek and Stiles watched movies until 3am until they both passed out on Derek’s couch or in Stiles’ cramped twin bed. Derek would wake in the morning to Stiles tangled up around him. It was bittersweet and frustrating. They had always been touchy feely with one another. Even as kids. They had no qualms about hugging or wrapping their arms around each other's shoulders in public. Which is why the rumors circulated for a long time in the gossip world about the two of them when Stiles became famous. But Malia’s presence squashed those rumors. But if those cameras could see them now…

Stiles comes out of Derek’s bathroom, stretching and yawning on his 4th night back in town. His pale skin showing on his stomach as his t-shirt rides up and Derek can't help but stare. Stiles catches him, his eyebrow raised. 

“You must be hard up for a lay if you’re eyeing up all this.” Stiles motions towards his crotch and Derek can feel himself visibly blush. 

“Sorry.” Derek mumbles shifting his eyes back to the Big Bang Theory rerun on the TV. 

“Hey! No.” Stiles bounces down onto the couch next to him. “Its cool. You know that shit never bothered me.” He pauses, chewing on the tip of his thumb. “How long has it been, anyway?”

Derek sighs, thinking. “Since I had sex? Uh, I don't know. 8 months?”

“What! Are you fucking kidding me?” Stiles yells, eyes wide. 

“What?” 

“Derek, you’re hot. You could probably lay like 3 guys or girls or BOTH in one night.” Stiles’ voice reaches soprano tones. 

Derek shrugs. “I don't want to though.”

Stiles nods, taking his reasoning in. “Malia and I never clicked...sexually.” He sighs, dramatically falling back against the couch cushions. “Maybe I am bad in bed.”

Derek swallows hard. “I highly doubt that.” He whispers.

He can feels Stiles eyes on him. He licks his lips and tries to concentrate on the show on the TV but he feels like he’s underwater. The voices on the TV seem so far away and his ears are ringing and his skin is on fire and...he closes his eyes slowly. He keeps them closed when he feels Stiles gentle fingertips on his chin pulling his face to the side toward him. Derek knows he’s shaking. 

“Der…” It barely comes out as a whisper but Derek still hears it. He hears the uncertainty in it with a soft underlying of desperation. He can't. If this isn't real...if it's just an experiment...no he can't. Not with Stiles.

“Don’t.” Derek warns, never opening his eyes. He knows if he looks at Stiles right now it would be like looking directly into the sun. He’d never be able to go back from that. Not ever. 

Derek can’t stop it from happening. He feels the hesitant press of lips to his own and even though his head is screaming for him to pull away, there is no way he can. It's like a cosmic magnetic force that’s keeping his mouth on Stiles’ and there is no natural disaster or atomic bomb that would be able to pry himself away in this moment. 

Derek lets his lips give a little into the chaste kiss and he can feel and hear Stiles’ soft breathes through his mouth onto his and it's the best kiss, hands down, he has ever had. 

They keep pressing their lips together, so gently, like whispers, for a few minutes. Never opening their mouths, Derek never opening his eyes to see if Stiles had his open. Derek thinks Stiles is just testing himself; seeing if this is maybe something he’d like or maybe he was just feeding off Derek’s unspoken NEED in the air and giving in or maybe it was the 3 beers Stiles had had with dinner. Derek doesn't know. And he doesn't want to care, but he has to. To lose Stiles now…over something like this; over his own selfishness and desire; it can't happen. 

Derek eventually turns his head away and tries to will his breathing to regain normalcy. He still doesn't open his eyes. 

“Derek...I…”

“Don't.” Derek warns again. “You don’t need-”

“If you think I did that for any other reason than I wanted to, I will seriously punch you.”

Derek’s eyes flutter open and he turns to look at his best friend. And he looks utterly wrecked. 

“I-”

“You are a self loathing idiot. You always have been. Girls, guys...all threw themselves at you in high school and you never batted an eye. You never thought you were worthy enough of their attention or love. Not since-” Stiles doesn't need to finish that thought. Derek knows since when. 

“Maybe you’re right, but that doesn't mean you need to kiss me to make anything better.” Derek spits out. Stiles looks wounded for a moment, but then his brow creases and he narrows his eyes. 

“I kissed you because I fucking wanted to. You don't think I’ve always wondered?”

“Wondered what, exactly?” Derek growls. 

“What it would feel like to be with you?” Stiles says quickly. 

“Stiles, you have never once shown interest at all.” Derek reminds him. Stiles nods, picking at the skin on his thumb. Something he always does when he’s nervous. 

“I didn't know you wanted me to until...the past few days. And being here with you again. Remembering how it was…” Stiles sighs heavily. “Never mind.”

“No. You don't get to check out of this. Like you always do. Tell me, Stiles. Tell me how you wanted to kiss me to _‘see how it would feel.’_ To play with my emotions?” Derek yells. 

“You think I’m fucking with you? Do you know how much courage it took for me to do that?” Stiles flails. 

“YES. Yes I do, because I’ve been wanting to do it for like 10 fucking years now but I didn't!”

“WELL WHY NOT?”

“BECAUSE.”

“Because!? That’s your fucking answer? Really? Grow some balls, Derek. Christ.” Stiles pushes himself off the couch, grabbing his empty beer bottle and heads toward the Derek’s kitchen. 

Derek can feel the heat rise in his chest from anger. And fear. His hands are sweating. His heart hammering away so hard he can hear it in his ears. How fucking dare Stiles. Flippant little shit. Does he think he can just come back here after all this time with his fame and money and grammy and model ex girlfriend. Derek was stupid to think things could be the same between them. The past is there but the present? The present is fucked up and Derek is a fucking construction worker, a gay one at that, in a no name town. Stiles may be from here, but he doesn't live here anymore. And Stiles’ audacity to kiss him and think Derek was going to just fall to his knees so he could have a kiss and no tell good time back home before he sets off on tour? Fuck him. No way. 

Derek stalks into the kitchen, eyes blazing with anger. He actually could punch Stiles right now and feel no remorse. Stiles has his back to him, his hands leaning him against the counter. Derek sees the hunch in his shoulders and the soft sound of sadness escaping from Stiles’ chest. 

He’s crying. 

And with that every ounce of anger is gone from Derek. And the need to hold Stiles washes over him so quickly; he’s drenched in emotions he can barely breathe. 

“Stiles.”

Stiles wipes his nose and turns around, a look of panic on his face. “Uh, hey. Um, it's late. I think I’m gonna go spend the night at home. Promised my dad I’d go to breakfast with him in the morning and you know how he gets if I promise him bacon and then don't deliv-”

His mouth is cut off by Derek’s. 

He wraps his long fingers around Stiles’ face and forces his mouth to stay open from his words with his tongue. It messy. And frantic. Stiles can't seem to figure out what to do with his hands and they are flailing at Derek’s side so Derek snakes his arms down and out and pulls Stiles flush against him. Stiles moans, pornographically, and Derek slams him against the counter. 

He can't stop now. Even if the apartment started to burn down around him, Derek would not be able to let go. 

Derek should have known Stiles would kiss like this. That he would put just as much energy and determination into making out as he does everything else in his life. He goes head in, without thinking, without the threat of consequence and sets everything on fire along the way. 

Including Derek. 

Derek pulls back, his lips wet and spit sliding down his chin into his stubble and Stiles eyes it with dark orbs. He blinks, licking his lips a few time to remove the excess wetness from his own mouth. Stiles lifts his gaze and gasps a little at the intensity on Derek’s face. 

“Now what?”

Derek steadies his breathing. “Your call.”

Stiles nods, and Derek can see the wheels turning in Stiles head. Should he really do this? Should he just walk away now? What are the consequences? But when a small devious smile forms on Stiles lips, Derek remembers Stiles doesn't think about consequences. But Derek should. But his heart is over clouding his mind and all he can think and FEEL right now is WANT. 

Stiles snakes his hand down in front of their conjoined bodies and presses the palm of his hand into Derek’s denim covered cock and Derek groans so loudly it's embarrassing. But Stiles just pants and makes soft noises of appreciation at the contact. 

“Are you sure?” Derek asks breathlessly. Stiles nibbles at his chin. 

“I have never been so turned on in my life.” Stiles admits in a voice Derek has never heard him use before. He wants to believe it's Stiles’ bedroom voice, but it sounds more like a phone sex line voice and Derek isn't about to complain. The fact that Stiles is in his arms right now; that he’s kissed those lips, that Stiles long fingers are now caressing the large rock hard bulge in his jeans; is some kind of Utopian dream. A dream he’s had many nights. Things Derek wants to admit to Stiles rest on the tip of his tongue that was just in his mouth and he shudders from just remembering the details from moments before. 

“Why aren't you touching me?” Stiles whispers against Derek’s stubble. Derek slides his eyes shut slowly, careful with his next words. 

“Cause I’m afraid I’ll wake up if I do.”

Stiles just clings to Derek tighter at the confession. “I want this. I’m here. I’m not drunk, or experimenting. I want you. Just relax.”

“I cant.” Derek shakes his head. “I...I don't just sleep around and I especially can't do it with you. I can't do this and then have you go back to LA and go on tour and not know what it all meant and-”

“Jeez, you are such a girl sometimes.” Stiles smirks and Derek frowns hard at him. “Okay, sorry. I get it, okay? I know what a huge deal this is. I’m not taking this lightly. Is it all new to me? To want you...to want a guy? Of course. But I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid of what it will mean, or what will happen. Cause it's you. We’ve been through together everything two people could possibly endure..” Stiles bites his bottom lip, a flush flooding his cheeks. “Except this.”

“I couldn't endure losing you.”

“You won't.” Stiles presses his mouth softly to Derek’s. “You won't. I promise. Now please kiss me. Just kiss me.”

Derek hushed out any remaining voices telling him to run. Telling him this may be the worst mistake he will ever make in his life. Instead he hoists Stiles up by his ass; Stiles legs wrapping around Derek’s waist and walks them into his bedroom.

********

Derek’s been with a few different kinds of men. Tall, muscular men like him. Smaller, more petite men. And average, everyday types of men. But it's always just been sex to him. No fireworks. No orgasms that shook the ground underneath him. He got off, they got off. It was good. 

But his skin has never been on fire like it is right now from Stiles’ soft yet demanding touches. He’s never been on the verge of blowing his load just from looking at pale skin covered in speckled dots. He’s never NEEDED to be inside someone like he needs to be in Stiles. 

He’s had his tongue inside Stiles ass for almost a half hour at this point. Derek can't pull himself away from the taste and smell and EVERYTHING that envelops him as he licks and sucks at Stiles’ hole.Stiles has come twice already from this and Derek’s ego is through the roof with pride. Stiles has pulled the fitted sheet off the bed with his clawing and writhing and the dark red sheets against his skin is making Derek growl into Stiles sweet spot. 

Stiles is begging now. Begging for something, anything, other than the assault on his ass. Derek’s been working his thick fingers along side his tongue trying to prepare Stiles for what's to come. Stiles wants it. His body is covered in a thin layer of sweat. He’s shaking with need. And desire. All for Derek. He doubts any girl has ever taken this much time just to make sure Stiles feels good. 

Derek finally stops the assault and sits back on his heels, his cock red and angry jutting out practically smacking Stiles on his bare thigh. Stiles falls down onto the twisted sheets with an _‘ooof’_ and moans loudly. 

“I’m pressing charges.” Derek hears mumbled. 

“Mmm.” Derek smoothes his hands down over Stiles’ firm ass, sliding his finger over Stiles’ over sensitized hole feeling the wetness. “And what exactly am I being charged with?”

“Attempted murder. Jerk.”

Derek laughs and carefully rolls Stiles over onto his back. Stiles face is flushed, and his eyes have closed with pleasure. He gives Derek a drunk smile and reaches out to tug at Derek’s cock.

“Gimme.” He says playfully. 

Derek obliges and shifts upwards on his knees toward Stiles face. Stiles tongue darts out on instinct, his mouth opening for Derek’s thick dick. An God, if Derek thought Stiles mouth was lethal just from kissing, Christ, his mouth from sucking cock?

The slurps and moans and spit that is just everywhere around Derek’s groin is making it impossible for Derek to remain balanced over him. He digs his blunt nails into the wall in front of him, but his knees are shaking and he feels the soft feather touches on his balls and that’s all she wrote.

He pulls out abruptly from Stiles mouth, his hand going to base of his cock in an attempt to squeeze his orgasm back into his body but it's too late. He comes, hard and all over Stiles chin and neck. Stiles mouth is still hanging open from the quick escape and his eyes widen as the amount of cum that has just splattered all over him. 

“S-sorry.” Derek pants out. He leans down over Stiles, trying to regulate his breathing and regain his balance. His head is spinning. He’s dizzy. He’s never cum like that. Ever. 

“That was so hot.” Stiles whispers. Derek raises an eyebrow. 

“Seriously?”

“Mmm.” Stiles leans up and kisses him as Derek lays down on top of him his fingers going into Stiles damp hair. Its sticky between them now from the sweat and cum and it's the dirtiest Derek has ever been with anyone. And for a second he wonders if all this porn star like moves he’s putting on Stiles is taking away from what he’s been waiting for for so long. He doesn't want Stiles to think it's just sex for him. But Derek has always felt the most comfortable around Stiles than anyone in his life, so all the things he’s doing; trying; are because he knows Stiles won't judge him for. 

“Stiles…” Derek murmurs. Their cocks are rubbing together, causing friction for them to swell again with want. “What do you want?”

“You. Just you. Anything. Everything.” Stiles pleads. He lifts his legs to wrap them around Derek and Derek has to remember to breathe. And without hesitation, much movement or struggle, Derek is inside him flawlessly. Stiles bares his long neck as the first push of Derek’s bare cock into his ass causes him to to cry out. Derek can't help but dig his fingertips into Stiles skull as he pushes in; his eyes watering from the sensation around his dick. 

Stiles is tight, he knew he would be, but he’s warm and soft...and Derek never wants to be inside anyone else ever again. He knew that's what would happen. How he’d feel once he had Stiles. He’s feels high. He wonders if this is what drug addicts feel like after shooting up heroin. Because if it is, he never wants to come down again. Stiles is his addiction; and he knows it will kill him. 

He can tell Stiles is in pain; he’s never done this before and it makes Derek stop thinking about his pleasure for a moment to concentrate on the fact that maybe this is all too much for Stiles. 

“Are you okay?” Derek pants out. He searches Stiles eyes for an answer when all he gets are sharp exhales of breath from his lover. Stiles begins to nod furiously.

“Yes. Yeah, just...wow.” Stiles nips at Derek’s chin. “I’m okay. I swear. Keep going.”

“Stiles, I can stop. I-”

“NO! Derek, I...its intense, yeah, but...it's you. It's...amazing.” Stiles eyes find Derek’s. “I swear.”

Derek pulls out a little and pushes in and when Stiles moans loudly, Derek knows he really is okay. And enjoying it. And if it's even possible, it makes Derek even harder inside Stiles. 

After that, Derek doesn't remember much. He remembers waves of pleasure, moans, whines, fingers digging into skin, writhing, sweat, saliva, lips, necks, legs...and when Derek finally comes, unable to hold back any longer, he’s blinded. By his orgasm, by the sight of Stiles squirming underneath him in his own need of release, and the feelings exploding out of himself. He never thought he would feel like this with anyone, especially not with Stiles. But now that it's out of him and into the atmosphere, he can't take the feelings back. And he’s not sure he wants to. 

Derek sucks the orgasm from Stiles; wrapping his lips and mouth around Stiles dick and taking his cum and screams out of him. Derek’s name is chanted like a prayer through Stiles lips and Derek swallows every drop. He falls asleep against the inside of Stiles thigh as his fingers thread through Derek’s hair.

********

When Derek eyes tiredly slide open, he’s alone in bed. He smiles at the aches in his muscles and stretches out his limbs for a few minutes in bed before trudging up enough energy to sit up. The sun is bright, almost too bright, coming in through the thin curtains in his bedroom, and it leads him to believe it must be a little after 8am. 

But he doesn't hear Stiles. He hears no movement in fact in his apartment. And as he looks over the side of his bed, he notices that his clothes are still strewn all the floor, but Stiles’ are gone. Derek frowns, a slow ache starting to build in his chest, and he pads naked and barefoot out of his bedroom and into the rest of the apartment. 

Any signs that Stiles had ever been there are gone. Derek wanders into the kitchen, a piece of paper on the counter capturing his attention. But he doesn't need to read it. He can feel the change in the air before he even gets to it. It isn't a ‘went to get us breakfast’ type note with a ‘love Stiles’ at the end. No, he doesn't even need to read it to know what it says. What he knew was going to happen from the second his lips touched Stiles last night. Derek has to live with these consequences now. He knows what the end was before it began. 

But the note, chicken scratched in Stiles hurried and erratic handwriting, doesn't make Derek not break down into tears, even knowing what was to come. His ability to see the future; to see and feel the weight of his mistakes; still makes him slide down onto the floor, chest heaving, his stomach churning with the need to vomit. 

All the while clutching the now crumbled note. 

_ I just can’t. This can’t be what you want.  
I’m sorry.  _

********

Stiles never said goodbye when he went back to LA. He never had breakfast with his father like he was supposed to that morning. When the Sheriff called and asked Derek what happened it took everything for him not to break down crying. He lied, telling Stiles father he ended up having to go back to LA early; something to do with his agent; and he was sorry. His father bought it; Stiles is a freaking pop star after all. 

And Derek never tried to call Stiles. Never to say he was sorry for whatever kind of pressure maybe Stiles felt he put on him for what happened between them. He never called him to tell him how much pain he was in. 

Derek never even sent him a text message to tell him he would miss him. That he already does. And he always would. 

And Stiles never called Derek either. 

Derek’s life goes on with a blur after that night. He changes his phone number and email. He buries himself in his work; saving money and taking small side jobs at night to save money. It's been a long time coming; this plan to get out of Beacon Hills. Possibly even out of California. He realizes what a coward he is being; how childish. Things didn't go his the way he wanted, so here goes Derek running away . But honestly he doesn't care what anyone thinks. 

When his sister Laura asked him why now, why is he coming to New York now to be near her, he remained quiet and she knew, in her psychic sister way, it had to do with Stiles. She didn't pry, she didn't ask questions, she just said Derek had a room with her until he found his own place in the city. 

He spent his free time looking for jobs and Skyping with potential employers in New York City. When he got the call that he got the job as assistant foreman for the City of Brooklyn, it was a relief and happiness but a wave of sickness washed over him knowing this was it. He was leaving. Away from his hometown filled with memories of his family...and of Stiles. But he couldn't stay here. Not anymore. 

Derek stopped reading gossip magazines in hopes of seeing articles about Stiles. And he stopped listening to the radio. All together. He saw the Sheriff around sometimes, but never asked about Stiles. And the Sheriff never offered information about him either. He knows his father was out in LA for thanksgiving, but other than that Derek has no idea what had been going on in the wonderful world of pop star Stiles Stilinski. 

It had been 5 months, 3 weeks and 2 days since that night with Stiles. 

Not that Derek is counting. 

But there isn't a day that goes by that he doesn't think of Stiles. The mistake he made. How he just misses hearing Stiles voice and the crazy stories he tells him. 

Derek talks to Malia often, and if by family instinct also, she never mentions Stiles. 

It's a abnormally sunny Tuesday morning when Derek decides he’s finally ready to listen to the radio again instead of the silence he usually endures on his drive to work every morning since Stiles left. He was getting out of Beacon Hills. He was going to be near his sister again, with an awesome job. And New York is filled with men he was sure he could find a meaningful relationship with. Someone who would never be Stiles, but could possibly be just as important to him. 

It's Ke$ha when he clicks the radio on to that irritating pop station as he drives down the main strip in Beacon Hills, buzzing with people in their normal workday routines. He knows this song; only because Stiles had dragged him to a club one time when he was in LA and made him dance to it. They flailed around like two fish out of water and drank until they both couldn't see straight. It was all over the gossip rags the next day. 

Derek finds himself humming along and he realizes he might finally be okay. That he will be fine in New York. It makes him smile. 

_“A classic by my girl Ke$ha! Now, as we all know there has been some weird rumors going around about one of our favorite boys, Stiles Stilinski. He has seemed to have disappeared from the public eye lately ever since cancelling his world tour a few months back. Now this comes across my lap this morning. A brand new track off an album that is being released in few weeks that sounds NOTHING like Stiles we are used to. It seems the pop prince is no longer. This new song almost has a southern rock sound to it which makes me wonder which Stiles is the REAL Stiles. Let's let his fans decide. So here it is, the newest song by Stiles Stilinski “Life After You.”_

Derek should turn the radio off. He doesn't need to hear this. He can't hear this. 

But he’s a masochist. Especially when it comes to Stiles. 

__**Ten miles from town and I just broke down  
** Spittin' out smoke on the side of the road  
I'm out here alone just tryin' to get home  
To tell you I was wrong but you already know  
Believe me I won't stop at nothing'  
To see you so I've started runnin' 

Derek finds his chest tighten as he listens to the words. One time in High School, Stiles ratty old Jeep broke down and Derek had to drive out in the middle of the night to pick him up. His Jeep was practically on fire. 

****_All that I'm after is a life full of laughter_  
As long as I'm laughing with you  
I'm thinkin' that all that still matters is love ever after  
After the life we've been through  
'Cause I know there's no life after you 

Tears begin to swell in Derek’s eyes, making it almost impossible for him to drive. Not including the panic attack that's starting to brew just below the surface of his skin. This was not the kind of music Stiles had signed on to do. This was his own. His own sound. His own voice. 

And it was all for Derek. 

****_Last time we talked, the night that I walked_  
Burns like an iron in the back of my mind  
I must've been high to say you and I  
Weren't meant to be and just wasting my time  
Oh, why did I ever doubt you?  
You know I would die here without you 

What if Stiles had tried calling him all these months? Derek makes the mistake of having sex with the most important person in his life and HE’S the one who pushes Stiles away? Yeah, Stiles took off that night, but Derek didn't blame him. How could he? A man who had never had sex with another man, let alone kiss one, had just had his first homo sexual encounter, with his best friend, and he freaked out. So Derek thinks it's a good idea for him to just...run away? 

Guilt. Pain. Regret. Fear. Feelings scratch at his skin as he does an illegal u-turn in the middle of downtown Beacon Hills. He has to make this right. He has to talk to Stiles. He needs to make this right. Stiles is. He’s trying to tell Derek how he feels through the only way he knows how. Through music. It's what Stiles used to do all those years ago. He and Derek used to make mix CD’s for each other. Most of it was ‘Dude you need to listen to this band, you’ll love it’ type CD’s but they were more. Derek realizes that now. Stiles had always had feelings for him. They just never made sense. To either of them. 

Derek can't take back what happened that night. But he could at least say the things to Stiles that he deserves to hear. 

Derek drives well over the speed limit back to his apartment. He has to go to LA. 

__**You and I, right or wrong, there's no other one  
** After this time I spent alone  
It's hard to believe that a man with sight could be so blind  
Thinkin' 'bout the better times, must've been outta my mind 

********

Derek takes two stairs at a time as he runs up the stairs toward his apartment. His heart is racing. He can barely breathe. He didn't even call his job to tell him he wouldn't be in. He can't think of anything but Stiles. He needs to pack a bag. He needs to get a plane ticket. He needs to think about exactly what he's going to say. What if Stiles isn't even in LA? What if-

But all the questions racing through his mind cease when he reaches the floor of his apartment to find Stiles, sitting cross legged outside his door. He looks up at him with warm honey brown eyes and Derek could cry on command at the sight. 

His hair is longer; that pop star comb over thing Stiles had going on, long gone. He’s wearing an old Beacon Hills Lacrosse t-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans, Derek is sure Stiles hasn't worn in quite some time. He looks like the Stiles Derek fell in love with all those years ago. Awkward. Unsure. But so fucking beautiful. 

“Stiles…”

“I’m sorry for just showing up like this but..” Stiles stands, wiping his hands on the back of his jeans. “-Your phone is disconnected.”

“I know.”

Stiles nods. “Listen. I just need you to know, I’m sorry. I was a fucking asshole. I should have never left the way I did. But I freaked out and that note. God, what a fucking douche bag I am.” He looks at him, a pained expression on his face. “Derek, I don't regret that night. I just need you to know that.”

“It was my fault.” Derek manages to get out.

“No. It wasn't anyone's fault. It happened because there’s a lot of history here.” Stiles motions between them. “And because I wanted it to. I probably always did.”

Derek swallows. “I heard the song.”

Stiles eyes widen slightly. “Oh crap. Right. It dropped today.”

“Is it..?”

Stiles nods. “Of course. You couldn't tell?”

“I’m sorry I changed my number. I just...I thought it would be easier. For you. Us.” Derek huffs out a small exasperated laugh. “It wasn't.”

“I don't blame you, Derek. What I did…” Stiles shakes his head. “You didn't deserve that. I was just scared. Of how I was feeling. Of what it meant. For me. For us.” Stiles takes a step forward. Derek holds his breath. “Do you hate me?”

“No, Stiles. I could never hate you. I love you too much.”

Stiles smiles gently. “I have no right asking this. I have no right even being here...but I...I want to be with you, Derek. I need to be with you. I can't believe I haven't been this whole time. My whole life. I realize now there has never been anyone but you. And I don't want there to ever be.”

“I got a job in New York.”

Stiles smiles falls softly from his face. He swallows, nodding. “Right. God, of course. Laura. Good. Good for you. I mean, you should be with your family.”

“You are my family.”

Stiles bites his lower lip and Derek knows it's to keep his emotions from flooding his face. He’s done it since he was a kid. “Of course. I always will be. This will be good for you. Get out of this town.”

“And away from you?” Derek whispers. 

“Maybe it's for the best.”

“Nothing is better than you, Stiles. Nothing. Don't you get that?” Derek surges forward, taking his face in his hands. “I fucking love you. Did you not hear me before?”

“How can this work? You in New York? Me…” Stiles trails off, his hands coming up to wrap around Derek's. 

“In New York with me? Who says you have to be in LA? Your agent? Seems to me by that new song you just put out, your agent realizes you aren't playing but his rules anymore.” Stiles smiles and Derek pulls him closer. “Come with me?”

Stiles sniffles, tears finally starting to fall from those eyes Derek’s has spent most of his life looking into. He presses his forehead into Derek’s chin.

“Anywhere.”

********

**6 months later:**

 

Derek’s fingers wrap protectively and reassuringly around Stiles’. Stiles’ knee is bouncing up and down nervously as he chews on the end of his thumb nail. 

“Why are you so nervous? You’ve done this before.” Derek whispers to him. Stiles squeezes his hand. 

“Shhh. This is different. This was on my terms. If I get this…”

_“And the Grammy goes to...STILES STILINSKI. ‘Life After You.’”_

The audience erupts into loud cheers and clapping and Stiles squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a long exhale before turning to look at Derek. Derek smiles at him, continuing to squeeze his hand. 

_“I love you.”_ Derek mouths to him. His confession flashes across the jumbotron behind Lady Gaga who is waiting patiently for Stiles to make his way up to the stage to retrieve his award. Stiles leans in, kissing him hard and fierce on the mouth before standing. Their fingers together until the very last second, the cameras also catching that moment. 

Derek watches as he walks gracefully up on stage, taking the Grammy gingerly from Lady Gaga’s hands and giving her a small peck on the cheek before turning toward the crowd who is still cheering, and some standing as they clap. Including Derek. 

“Wow. I…” Stiles laughs and runs his fingers through his unruly hair. Derek told him he didn't need any gel in his hair tonight. It may be the Grammy’s, but that's not who Stiles is anymore. 

“This song was really important to me for many reasons. It was my breakaway from an image I wasn't happy presenting of myself. It was my first chance to get out there something that was truly mine. I want to thank all my fans that stuck with me through the change; I know the kind of music I am putting out now isn't for everyone and is quite different than what I was putting out the last time I won one of these.” Stiles laughs a little and leans onto the podium, more towards the microphone. “I want to thank my agent, who against his better judgement, took a chance on something that was important to me. I want to thank my father, who was my role model and who taught me to never give up on what I knew was best for myself.” He’s getting choked up and it's causing a lump to form in his own throat. 

“And lastly I want to thank my boyfriend, Derek.” The camera pans to him and Derek covers his mouth with his hand to try and hide his emotions. “I wrote this song for him. He gave me the inspiration and the courage to be who I really am. You’re my best friend, Derek. And I love you. Thank you so much everyone!” Stiles smiles and waves his award in the air as Lady Gaga ushers him off stage. 

Derek wipes his eyes and swallows a few times. People are turned around and smiling at him and he nods in their direction at the sentiments. 

The 2 Grammys sit on the mantel in their New York City loft apartment, next to their wedding picture that appeared in People Magazine, beaming at the camera, one year later. It lives next to a faded framed picture of Derek and Stiles from High School, in their Lacrosse gear; arms around each other, in normal Derek and Stiles fashion, with the same beaming smile.


End file.
